Page 21 of Rough Patch

Grier narrowed his eyes and glared. “Shut up.”

“What’s in there?” Sage stage-whispered the question.

“I don’t know. I was about to look when you came up.” And now Jim joined them, clomping through the crunching leaves at his full-height. No 007 in their game.

Sage pulled Jim’s arm so he crouched beside them. “You look. We’ll watch your back.”

Grier nodded and stood. Stacks of boxes lined the walls and he would have bet his life every single box belonged to the Screaming Demons.

He squatted. “FBI has been all over this place. How’d they get those boxes in here?” Damned if he would leave before he knew. “Watch the road and the doors.” He didn’t wait for an answer but pressed his back against the wall and slid across the cedar logs to the front of the cottage. Certainly they wouldn’t leave the door unlocked, but when he tried the knob—no point in breaking in if he didn’t have to—it twisted and the latch worked free.

Stupid fuckers. Or it was a trap. Too late to just close the door now. He walked inside, keeping his head below the window line. The boxes made a maze into the room and he stepped carefully around. “I’ll be damned.” A hatch in the floor was open, a ladder below.

He stood back when voices from below floated up. Grier recognized Demuer’s voice. “They’re protecting him now, but I did what you asked and I want my money.”

Another voice laughed. “Your money? You haven’t earned shit.” Grier would’ve recognized that voice in his sleep. Tyler Sedotal. And as much as he wanted to go down there and rip him limb from fucking limb, he stood still, concealed behind the boxes. “That cocksucker is out there still, not in prison, not dead. You get me Grier Owen’s head and you’ll get your money. Simple as that.” Heavy footsteps echoed away.

They—and he wasn’t quite sure who they were yet—weren’t after Fiona at all. Interesting. This had been a very interesting endeavor.

Grier wanted to know what was under this cottage. Boy, did he want to know. He moved around the stack he was hiding behind, misjudged the amount of space his body took in a crouched position and the pile teetered, wobbled, swayed, and crashed to the ground. Grier made for the door. Left it flopping open and ran for the woods, Sage and Jim following as the first shots rang out.

They ran for their bikes, with Sage returning fire over his shoulder and Jim stumbling through the brush. Sage climbed on his bike and gunned the engine into a full turn as Jim took a bullet in the leg. Grier grabbed him under his arm and half-dragged him to his bike. “Get on!”

Shots rained around them, pinging off trees, ricocheting around them and Grier sped away.

Fuck. He’d destroyed any chance he had of catching Sedotal in his lair. And that wasn’t something he wanted to have to tell Fiona.

* * *

By dark, the cottages were surrounded by Screaming Demons. Fiona had taken the details better than he’d expected. “Get our stuff back.” That was all she’d said, but her slumped shoulders and the weariness in her eyes let him know he’d disappointed her.

They’d left her Hamilton and Jim, then every available man and Jez loaded into the trucks with their bikes and enough weaponry to bring down a small country. One by one they emptied the cottages and retrieved every damned thing that had been stolen with the exception of the truck that had burned and was still in police custody.

For being watched by the FBI, a lie that led Grier to believe the three agents he’d met with were all dirty, the cottages were unprotected and unlocked. And something about it didn’t feel right.

He walked out to the last truck and opened one of the boxes. Nothing but parts and pills. He pushed the box away and closed the sliding door. He still wanted to see what was in the basement, but not now. He had to get these trucks to safety. Fiona was counting on him and he’d let her down enough for one day.

“Let’s go.” He climbed on his bike and took the lead with Sage. Demons rode between and beside each truck and the devastation wouldn’t have been so total had he checked more than one box, had he thought the way Tyler Sedotal thought.

The first truck exploded, and Nate swerved off the road, laying the bike on its side in the grass at the side of the highway. Joe hadn’t been so lucky, and rider and bike had slid under the burning truck in a slick of oil and sparks. Every truck took out one rider and left two. Cargo littered the streets, rocketed up then crashed back down. Bodies of his men, brothers, Demons, laid in pieces amid flames and heat. The cops would be on their asses over the stolen parts and the drugs, the explosions, and the dead bodies they didn’t have time to retrieve.

And every bit of it was Grier’s fault.

For all of her education, all of her life experience as of late, Fiona couldn’t figure out how to console Grier. He hadn’t moved off the sofa in days. Hadn’t showered. Hadn’t eaten much either. She’d dealt with funeral planning, police questions, and the hospital, and he had stayed curled on the sofa. Stoic. Silent. Possibly catatonic. In a t-shirt and basketball shorts.

Out of desperation, she’d called Sage. And Jez. And Hamilton. They all stood in her kitchen, huddled together watching Grier. Jez peeking around Hamilton, waving her hands at Grier in a wax-on-wax-off motion. He didn’t so much as glance up.

“He’s like a bad throw rug.”

Fiona rolled her eyes. “Jez, be helpful.”

Sage sighed. “I’ll go.” His arm was wrapped in a white bandage where a radiator full of black-market boner pills had come down and cut him open from elbow to wrist, but he’d stuck around, bleeding and faint, to help with the bodies of the fallen brothers. He walked into the kitchen and sat on the coffee table in front of Grier. Grier didn’t move or even look up. He sat for a minute without speaking then stood and slid his hands down his pants legs. He walked back to join the huddle in the kitchen.

“He’s a lump.” Sage shrugged.

Could she possibly have picked less helpful people to fix this? “He couldn’t have checked every box. There wasn’t enough time. You guys didn’t know what was waiting for you out there.” Fiona had said the very same words to Grier and still nothing. No reaction.

Jez stared at him. “Has he eaten?”